


BATTLE MOON: Prologue and Part 1

by Grondfic



Category: King Solomon's Mines - Rider Haggard
Genre: M/M, Uncategorized fandoms - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grondfic/pseuds/Grondfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hitherto unpublished part of Hunter Quatermain's diary gives an insight into his activities after the battle that put Ignosi on the throne of Kukuanaland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A post-battle encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 1\. This first episode slots into the novel during the period after the big set-piece battle and the offing of Twala by Sir Henry Curtis in single combat. The 'lost prince' Umbopa (now Ignosi) is thus newly restored to the throne of Kukuanaland, but at great cost in lives. Our Three Heroes are in pretty poor shape too, with Captain Good delirious and Sir Henry nursing a wound to the jaw from Twala's battle axe.
> 
> 2\. The very final scene here, then dovetails into the final farewell to Ignosi and Kukuanaland after the climactic adventures in Solomon's Mines.
> 
> 3\. As will be obvious from the prologue, I envisage Part 1 being written in diary form, immediately after young Harry's death, the account of which appears in the introductory chapter of the later novel _Allan Quatermain_.
> 
> 4\. Any direct quotes from the novel appear in _italics_. Haggard _afficionados_ will recognise a couple of references to _She_ and to _The Ghost Kings_. There's also a couplet quoted from _The Ballad of Lord Thomas and Fair Elinor_.

_**BATTLE MOON: A _King Solomon's Mines_ slash adventure. Prologue &amp; Part 1**_  
**Title: BATTLE MOON: Prologue and Part 1  
Fandom:** _King Solomon's Mines_ by Henry Rider Haggard  
**Pairings/Characters:** Allan Quatermain/Umbopa-Ignosi. Mention of Quatermain's deceased son Harry; also Sir Henry Curtis, Captain John Good, Foulata and Gagool.  
**Rating:** A poetic NC17 (some blood-play)  
**Disclaimer:** All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.

* * * *

**Prologue**

_Harry, my dearest boy, my only consolation – now that you are gone from me – is to continue to address you in this Journal, just as I have done whilst you lived and walked the Earth._

_Because you have 'gone beyond', I am now finding the strength and freedom to address you with absolute honesty; and thus here confide such things as I might not have included were you living. It is a poor consolation for the lack of your living self; but such as it is, I will indulge it!_

_Harry my dearest son, I trust and pray that you – now immeasurably beyond this transient and fallible world – may look kindly and tolerantly upon your father's foibles. Particularly, I crave your beneficent understanding of the love I bore – Nay! Still bear – to One who commands my fealty beyond all other in this imperfect (and yet – how transiently wonderful) sphere!_

_Now that you no longer walk this earth, Sir Henry is urgent with me to return to the Dark Continent to explore further those areas that yet remain intriguingly blank on all maps._

_But – oh my dearest – forgive me that I rather prefer to return to that Region with which my name (thanks to your invaluable aid with the publication) will forever be linked. I intend to return to Kukuanaland, where I am Awaited – and have been indeed, these five English years._

_Allow me to tell you the tale, Harry (which is but an interpolation into that story you already know), in the hope that you – in your Higher State - will come to an understanding._

_Here, then, I set down some Lost Chapters in that adventure of King Solomon's Mines; and our part in the overthrow of the tyrant Twala in favour of his nephew, Ignosi whom we first knew only as Umbopa ……_   
  
**Part 1**

The Kukuana womenfolk had laughed (a trifle suggestively) when we'd asked to be housed in only one of the three kraals assigned to us.

Now, however, with Good delirious and being attended by the devoted Foulata, and Sir Henry groaning woefully through his stitched-up jaw following his death-duel with Twala, I was pleased to be able to take an empty kraal within the compound for myself.

Here I lay on the soft pelts and grass of the bed, stark naked in the heat of the night; and attempted slumber. However, the persistent keening of women – hourly reminding me of the price paid for the Glory of War – kept me far from my deserved rest.

Finally – one hour beyond midnight – I lit a gourd-lamp, and had recourse to the mythic certainties of _The Ingoldsby Legends_: although – truly – their phantasmagoria were scarce as wonderful as the situation in which we now found ourselves.

Uncertain shadows stalked me, and visions of battle-death flitted through a mind tired beyond sleep. Only one thing remained constant – the image of Umbopa-Ignosi, now King of the Kukuanas; upon whose noble head I had heretofore heaped all the customary vulgar, derogatory epithets with which I would habitually address native servants.

This was one thing in Durban; but quite another here beyond the pale of civilisation. In Kukuanaland, even Sir Henry had reverted to racial type, addressed Ignosi as an equal, and behaved like a berserker-Viking when beheading Twala with one mighty blow of his axe.

And I – I had a most unholy impulse to kneel at Ignosi's shapely feet and swear fealty, just as the Captains had been doing all day. I tell you, Harry my boy, if it were possible for a White Man from the Stars to feel abashed on account of a Kaffir, I was feeling just that way now!

This hidden realm of Kukuanaland was so far removed from the customs of the Cape, and faraway England, that I – even Macumazahn the wily watcher-by-night (who belonged neither wholly to the native kraals nor to the refined home-worlds of Cape Town and London) – felt inappropriate within this paradise under the limitless African stars and gilded waning moon.

Truly – a scant few nights ago – we three white men had claimed suzerainty over the Eclipse; and taken credit for extinguishing the Lady of the Heavens! But now it occurred to me with uncomfortable clarity that Gagool – that ageless embodiment of evil – had been in the right of it.

_"It will pass! I have often seen the like before! No man can put out the moon."_ she had said.

How could we have dared to claim this Magic for ourselves? It was Hubris – as the Old Greeks would have it – undertaken nonetheless for Umbopa/Ingosi's sake.

A shadow moved across the doorway, and I reached for my pistol as a breeze agitated the palm-lamp. However, I soon made out the form of Ignosi, appearing as if summoned by my thoughts. He straightened, his hands held out empty, and looked around him with a mild spiritual gaze.

My body moved of itself. I sprang to my feet (forgetting for the moment that I was stark naked), and raised my arms in the Kukuana Salute to the King.

"Koom!"

"Oh, please!" he replied in a perfect, received English of which I had no idea he was master, "Be seated Mr Quatermain! This Savage King has more need of a friend than followers this night!"

As I blushed, discomforted, he reverted to the Zulu tongue and continued –

"To thee, and to Incubu and to Bougwan, I owe my throne – nay, my very life since ye threw over me the shield-of-the-stars against the malice of Gagool the Witch-Finder. Here then, there can be no talk of _Baas_ nor _Boy_! Nor even – _'for the Sun cannot mate with the Moon, nor the white with the black'_ \- since all here share the glory of conquest; and the hurts and death-wailing also!"

I sat down, a trifle uneasy at this kind of talk.

"Um … yes!" I muttered.

"I hold myself in thy debt; ye three. And yet, Macumazahn, I say that my people deserve more from me – and from thee also – than a number of cheap tricks concerning guns, false teeth, an eyeglass, Captain Good's bare legs; and the fortuitous occurrence of a natural phenomenon! What sayest thou, Macumazahn – man unto man, and human unto human?"

"I …. You're too clever by half, Umbopa!" I blurted in English.

"And yet – " he overrode me serenely in the Zulu tongue, "Thou hast hailed me as King! May not a King be 'too clever by half'? May not a King – though black as midnight – look upon the White Man and … have desires?"

I gulped, suddenly reminded of my nudity.

"Desires?"

"Do mettled warriors of the White Folk not lie together after battle? Do they not share Life, who have known – together – the closeness of Death?"

"Of course not!" I said indignantly, "We face death with stoicism; and the aftermath of war with a double-tot of Naval Rum!"

"So …! Always the Devil-drink, but never the rewards of close companionship! I pity thee, White Man from the Stars!"

I squinted in the smoky light at Ignosi's finely-etched torso beneath the Royal leopardskin cape, his face framed by the animal's gaping jaws, its front paws tied loosely across his broad breast.

"I pity myself sometimes!" I mused, half-aloud, in English.

"I have noted thy measuring glances, oh Macumazahn; and counted it high praise from such as thee! Wilt thou not share this thing with me now – in the darkening-Moon of the First Night of my Kingship? There is, truly, great honour both in the giving and the receiving of it!"

"I thought," words burst from me, half in my native tongue, half in the bitter language of envy, "That you and Sir Henry would be best matched in prowess and in beauty!"

"Ah – like calls to like whether light or dark, thinkest thou? Nay, thus would it annihilate itself! Bring then to me – twixt midnight and dawn – the soft and wily desert fox; the Father of Trickery and hidden things!"

In that instant I forgot that I was nearer sixty than fifty; that I lacked the necessary height to attain the heroic stance of Sir Henry or Ignosi himself. I even forgot that blasted lion who had left a permanent reminder imprinted deep on my thigh.

In the perfection of my youth, I had hardly been in any way godlike. Now, I felt I was held together only by the deep tanning of my skin by an African sun; and sheer bloody-mindedness.

But – as I say – in that shining instant, I forgot everything.

"Oh God!" I babbled, out of my mind with moonlight, death and bewitchment, "Yes! Oh, yes, Ignosi, My King!"

"Thou has spoken!" he intoned solemnly; then, dropping the cape and his moocha, stood naked, as I was myself.

I could now no longer conceal the shameful _changes_ to my body. Ignosi, however, wore his nudity with pride; and I forgot my own natural modesty as I saw that the blue serpent-marking encircling his waist had its rightful termination at his groin, where the snake's head was represented by his Erect Member.

It was perfect, naturally right, and beautiful. Fascinated, I leaned forward to touch.

Ignosi drew in his breath with a sharp hiss.

"So – the white Inkosi hears the call of She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed – the Lady of Passion, just as we do!"

"WHAT did you say?"

"I but commend you – us – to the Realm of the Inkosazana; the Lady of Desire, my Macumazahn! What further meaning entered thy heart?"

"Yes .. yes, of course! I …"

Memories of past times in the land of the Amahagger faded as the Snake's Head slid smoothly into my curled palm; and the King of the Kukuanas laid a muscular arm around my shoulders to pull me close. His shield-arm encircled my lower back, the left hand alighting gently to cup one nether-cheek.

Frozen thus like statues for a timeless instant, we each encountered the other's Final Secret - that we were both beings of flesh; and that our skin (of whatever colour) was soft and enticing, one against the other.

Men pretend daily that they are cast in singing bronze, or hewn from marble; but it is not so! Naked in the heat of the Kukuana night, we acknowledged that flesh is sweet, soft, and infinitely vulnerable. His gentle brush of fingertips against the ugly scar on my thigh confirmed this.

I raised my face – acutely aware of each age-line, and also of my unshaven chin – receiving a courteous head bow in response. The soft lips of Royalty brushed my compliant mouth. My bodily changes had ceased to be shameful; becoming urgent at the touch of his lean thigh.

"So!" he breathed, "As the blessed Lady of Heaven rides above us, let us complete the Circle of Life here below! Thus White may no longer triumph over Black; nor Black over White. Within this Circle all men – King and Watcher-by-night – shall be equal. Lie down, Macumazahn, upon thy right side; and let us complete the rite!"

I did as he instructed, reclining on the softness of the kaross below me. The King knelt for a moment above me; then laid himself head-to-toe with me (or rather – since my insignificant height could hardly match his godly frame) groin to lips.

His mouth enclosed and hid from the moonlight my shameful _fullness_. I reached eagerly (I must confess) for the Dark Majesty of The Snake.

_'And when that they could go now higher  
They twined in a true-lovers knot!'_

The ballads of my untamed Anglo-Saxon ancestors sang within my thrumming brain and nerve-endings. The Snake, its head insinuated between my lips, found its rhythm in my mouth, and sweetly invaded my throat. Somewhere far below, close and imperative pressure enticed me to Unspeakable Bliss.

Even the recurring pain of my lion-mauled leg became part of this! If not entirely eradicated, it was soothed, reconciled, and made part of the Eternal Circle in Which ecstasy unites bliss and agony; life and death.

I had the use neither of breath nor voice, tongue nor mouth, to cry out; and yet a paean to joy sang through both our bodies to hail the Infinity Beyond in a pleasure that was both earthly and divine. (Or so it seemed to me – although I am often guilty of the Sin of Deep Thinking!).

At length Ignosi, sighing deeply, rose and reversed himself, pulling me towards him into a loose embrace.

"Thou art the strength of my loins and master of the night, Macumazahn!" he whispered, "The Circle closes beneath the waning moon!"

"Aye!" I responded sleepily, for it seemed to me too, that there had been a completion.

After a while, during which the white moonlight entered the kraal and invaded the interior of my skull, Ignosi spoke again, langorously.

"There will be yet more ere the sun stands high in the heavens!"

"Yet the Circle is closed, ye say!" I replied.

"Ah, but another may open! And I shall bind thee here! Doest accept this hidden thing?"

"I have ties … " my brain prompted uneasy words, "I belong elsewhere ….."

"Then shift – oh, but only a very little – thine allegiance from The Stars to this place, beyond Sheba's Breasts and Suliman's Berg, to this very kraal in Loo of the Kings!"

"I am torn, Ignosi! And yet – I shall always acknowledge thee my King and …. "

"It is enough! Wear thou THIS for me – the Shadow of which I hold the Substance!"

He produced, with the flourish of a stage-magician, two tiny rings, both smaller than the circumference of my littlest finger; one ebony, one ivory, each clasped with a tiny raw diamond. He proffered the smooth ebony flat on one callused palm.

"Wilt thou wear it in memory of this night, in token of the bond between us twain wherever thou goest?"

"It won't fit my hand, Ignosi!"

"This will pierce even above thy heart, Macumazahn, even as its twin shall rest over mine! Doest consent, comrade in adversity and bliss?"

"I consent!"

"It is well. I must pierce thy left breast even as thou must mine! Drink! Drink for the pain that it be subsumed in bliss! Drink!"

I took the oddly-shaped cup which he produced for somewhere (fashioned I later learned, from a human skull) and unhesitatingly took a heavy swig. I am – as I may have mentioned before – a fatalist.

I don't entirely recall the flavour. The night was so overflowing with honey that memory has retained only that overarching sweetness. And yet, within that, there remains the impression of a deep-grained, mouth-puckering bitterness that invaded my palate and mounted by degrees to my brain.

The night turned green as death, and pulsated gently to the rhythm of my heart.

A bee-sting spike of sensation distantly awoke my left breast. I moaned; but whether in pain or pleasure I hardly knew.

A soothing tongue lapped the heat of the wound; then a solid weight intruded so that I gave vent to a fretful mew. It finally settled – an uncompromising coolness behind my engorged and throbbing nipple – and was set forever with a final click.

"Come, my Macumazahn! I have pierced thee with a needle of ebony. Now must thou take the sharp ivory and do the like for me!"

I have to admit that my hand was guided, fingers clamped around the slender ivory rod with which I was presented.

Presently it pierced Ignosi and, pressed tight against him, I felt his shudder. My mouth was guided gently, inexorably to his torso; and the sharp iron-flavour of blood caressed my lips and tongue.

The insertion of the ivory ring was undertaken mainly by Ignosi also; but it was my vagrant fingers which, under his guidance, closed the diamond clasp.

"Come!" he whispered, "The moonlight of the Inkosazana awaits! Bring thou the kaross and let us lie in the Eye of the Moon!"

"Outside?"

"Thou forgettest, oh my Macumazahn, that all must shun this kraal on account of Bougwan! Only the Lady of Heaven thus observes us! And – Mr Quatermain - " he shifted suddenly to English, "the White Man from the Stars owes some recompense for the ignoble way you used Her some nights ago!"

"True!" I admitted hazily.

"Bring thou the kaross; and let us lie beneath Her glory beside the King's Kraal!"

I recall staggering into the blinding light of the waning Moon bathing the lime-paved yard outside. I recall the softness of the kaross beneath my knees and elbows. I recall how salt his blood tasted on my lips.

I recall the acute sensation within, and his weight on my back; and how the whole landscape pulsed to his rhythm.

I recall that my howl at the Lady of Heaven was hastily stifled by his hand across my mouth, as I spilled My Essence on the land.

And then I recall no more until I woke into the noontide glare of an advanced new day, tucked neatly under the karosses in the kraal; my body one huge throb of pain and the aftermath of remembered bliss.

* * * *

_"Now do I learn," said Ignosi bitterly and with flashing eyes, "that ye love the bright stones more than me, your friend. Ye have the stones; now ye would go to Natal and across the moving black water and sell them and be rich ….."_

So the King ranted as we announced our intention of leaving Kukuanaland. Each word was a spear in my already-pierced heart; and – had it not been for you, dear boy – I would have thrown those cursed stones to the ground and remained with him.

It fell to me – his closest friend and (dare I say the word?) lover – to persuade him that it was homesickness that was our main motivation. I intended those diamonds, and the wealth they would bring, for your benefit, my darling boy; and now they are no more than dust and ashes in my mouth.

So tomorrow, I shall bid you farewell, where you sleep in the churchyard here and set off once again for Africa. This time I shall go alone; for I have refused the offer of Sir Henry and the Captain – excellent fellows though they are – to try for the mysterious land of the Zu-Vendi.

No, my heart turns back, finally, to this chance allegiance of mine. I shall go back – struggling alone across those barriers we three overcame with such toil, five years ago; and – if I am spared – shall find some comfort for your absence, my boy. 


	2. BATTLE MOON: Part 2 and Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the death of his son, Allan returns alone to Kukuanaland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 1\. Sitanda's Kraal was apparently a real location in Haggard's time, but I haven't been able to pinpoint it today.
> 
> 2\. _Baas_ is Afrikaans and means exactly what it sounds like.
> 
> 3\. _Isanusis_ are shamans.
> 
> 4\. _"Lead on Macduff"_ This is a misquote in the book by Captain Good. The quote should of course be _"Lay on, Macduff!_
> 
> 5\. _"I'm channelling my Inner Kukuana!"_ Mr Quatermain's editor apologises for the blatantly anachronistic nature of this exclamation.
> 
> 6\. _Insephe_ is the Zulu word for the springbok.
> 
> 7\. _"Sutjies, sutjies"_, an adjuration in Afrikaans - "softly, softly" (or gently).  
> 8\. _"my soul was spilt"_. This is a concept from Haggard's _The Ghost Kings_  
> 

_**BATTLE MOON: A _King Solomon's Mines_ slash adventure. Part 2 and Epilogue**_  
**Title: BATTLE MOON: Part 2 and Epilogue  
Fandom:** _King Solomon's Mines_ by Henry Rider Haggard  
**Pairings/Characters:** Allan Quatermain/Umbopa-Ignosi. Jim, OC Arab Trader, Camel - _Bougwan_, OC young Kukuanas including Iqaqa grandson of Infadoo and Mopo a runner, Infadoo.  
**Rating:** A poetic but nonetheless definite NC17  
**Disclaimer:** All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.

* * * *  
  
**Part 2**

Sitanda's Kraal on the river junction had grown in size and importance during my 5-year absence. The village had expanded and a small church with attendant missionary-house built at the far end.

I trudged in one sundown, with Jim the erstwhile companion of George Curtis. I had found him down-on-his-luck and blind drunk in Durban, and taken him on in a moment of weakness. He had sworn he could remember every step of the longer, but easier, route across the desert to the last oasis before Suliman's Berg; and I had been sentimental enough to take him on trust.

"Baas," he said cautiously (for we had had a falling-out over the disposal of the ox-wagon at the trading station in Matabele country), "This place is not as I remember it!"

"True!" I replied shortly, "You must find some bearers to carry the water-gourds for us!"

"Yah, Baas!" he replied hastily, and made himself scarce. I settled in at our camp on the outskirts, for a long wait.

I was thus astounded to find him returning a very short time later with someone else in tow.

"Baas!" he announced excitedly, "This man will sell us a WONDERFUL beast of the desert! It needs no water, but will scent it from afar. It provides shade in the heat of day – AND will carry us and many gourds of water!"

Behind him loomed the figure of an elderly Arab trader, and the supercilious glare of a ragged-looking camel, which spat leisurely in my direction.

"It looks a bad-tempered beast!" I observed.

"No, no, Effendi!" the ancient Arab hastened to reassure me, "I have loved it as my own child! It is tired, heaven-born, that is all!"

A wild ,and anarchic hilarity possessed me. Let all the Gods – mine and Ignosi's – bear me across the barren wilderness on this trickster of a beast!

"Alright!" I said; and fell to haggling like a market wife.

* * * *

Suliman's Berg loomed above us, and the camel – whom I had named Bougwan in honour of Captain Good – spat disparagingly.

"Jim!" I said in English, "Here we part forever! Take this animal and return to the oasis; and thereafter, back to Sitanda's Kraal! I shall climb the steep stair yonder to the place kept for me!"

"Oh, Baas!" he responded, shedding tears, "Don't go rushing after the diamonds! Death follows them …. "

"Diamonds?" I snorted disdainfully, "No, Jim! On this, his final trek, Macumzahn goes to reclaim his heart at last! Farewell!"

As I made solitary camp below the sheer cliff, I could descry him, triumphally atop Bougwan, the spare water-gourds bobbing ludicrously at each side, as the camel made unerringly for the chain of oases that it now knew quite well.

I slept soundly that night; and in the pre-dawn chill began my ascent.

It was as if I were gifted with wings! A scant day's climb – though arduous – brought me to the ridge. I was able, just before night obliterated day in its usual absolute fashion, to make out the dark cleft of the hidden valley below.

I decided I would be unlikely to sleep that night; so awaited the rising of the Moon – just short of Full and therefore perfectly sufficient as regards visibility.

I shouldered my pack and the one rifle I had by way of firearms, and started forward into the cold high-reaches of the mountain range. At least this time I had come prepared for the cold with a rather splendid lion-skin coat (the sole remnant of the brute who had chewed my leg) and a pair of woollen mittens kindly contributed by George Curtis's fiancée.

Thus, as the glory of an African dawn split the sky with gold, I wandered down from the steeps to the stream-washed foothills that overlook the verdant valley-floor of Kukuanaland.

I had sufficient biltong in my pack to be able to break my fast without recourse to the rifle (which had been brought mainly for self-defence).

Striking to my left as the day advanced, I soon hit the ancient road of King Solomon that runs from Suliman's Berg throughout the length of Kukuanaland to that very spot where the Mines can be found.

I, however, had no further interest in its final destination; but rather pressed forward along the road and its attendant stream, in search of the kraal which I knew to lie somewhere north-west of the range.

* * * *

It was mid-afternoon before they caught me! I'd been expecting some form of interception as soon as I began my descent; and indeed, was certain I'd been followed from the start of the tree-line halfway down the mountain.

I'd halted by the stream, and eaten a few strips of biltong – more from habit than real hunger, since my appetite had deserted me even after the necessary privations of the desert-crossing.

Seated with my back against the broad bole of a silver tree, I awaited the customary Kukuana calling-card. SOMEONE – I reasoned – would grow tired of waiting, and cast his _tolla_ – the heavy battle knife.

A streak of silver flashed in the corner of my left eye and whistled past my ear as I inclined my head gently to the right. The thunk of the blade as it embedded itself hardly caused me to startle. It was old news by then.

"Greeting!" I said in the Zulu tongue.

"Why are you here, white man?" sang out a voice from the stand of saplings on the left, "Know ye not that it is death for thy kind to walk here?"

"It is death by decree of Ignosi the King!" I agreed, "And yet, puppy (for the voice had been young), "Did thy sires never tell of Those Three to Whom all ways are open – Incubu; Bougwan; Macumazahn?"

There ensued – after an instant of dead silence – a low muttered debate from my unseen stalkers. The whole group appeared to be bunched behind the saplings. There was no whisper of words behind or to my right. Children, then!

"Say that thou art One of Those Three, white man! Where is thy warranty? What proof dost thou offer?"

"Beyond the Name of the King and my unerring trek towards the kraal yonder?" I indicated down-slope, "What more wouldst thou, Puppy?"

"One might have returned to 'The Stars' and told thee these things!" the young voice wavered, but ploughed on resolutely.

"So they might. But that is a small chance whereon to end the life of a man. Shall I then waste the remains of the day in recounting the tale of The Battle after the Moon was put out? Or how that-dead-one-who-must-not-now-be-named was vanquished by the Axe of Incubu? Such tales are for old grandfathers!"

"Our duty is clear, white man! We – the Young Buffaloes – must do to death any Outlander who strays beyond Sheba's Breasts yonder! Must we risk royal displeasure on the chance that thou art One of Those Three?"

"Bring me before the King - or Infadoo if he still walks the Earth – and if they vouch not for me, do then according to thy custom! In truth, the outcome is all one to me!" I advised indifferently.

"Why speak ye of Infadoo?" the voice hissed.

I smiled. Like all younglings, he could not conceal his pride in his lineage.

"So! Ye spring from his seed, Puppy! I salute thee in the name of thy … Grandsire!"

Another burst of muttering ensued; and finally a dozen young braves appeared from the copse.

Rather than rushing to secure my person, they stood in a row and stared.

"Not Incubu!" remarked one at last, "My father tells that he was a tall man and a broad. With yellow hair and beard."

"Not Bougwan; for he lacks the shining eye and moving teeth!" said someone else.

"And I carry no gifts of fire-sticks that kill from afar!" I added, rising slowly to my feet, "Yet still I am Macumazahn returned. Now I would greet thy King as soon as may be! Wilt thou send a fast messenger to convey greetings, and request that I may journey to Loo of the Kings?"

"Mopo is fastest!" muttered someone dubiously.

"Iqaqa – what sayest thou?"

They all looked at the tall youth at the centre of the line whose resemblance to old Infadoo was quite striking.

"Yes, tell me my fate, Infadoo's house-puppy!" I added my mite.

The boy flushed angrily, taking an incautious step forward. I hastened to make amends.

"Forgive a White Man's faulty speech! I meant but to greet thee as a worthy scion of the House of Infadoo!"

A hoarse crack of laughter answered me from amongst the trees on the right; and Infadoo himself appeared.

"Eish, my Night-Watcher! One day that ready tongue of thine will be thy death! Didst think to pass Suliman's Road unseen, like smoke, or like a ghost?"

I grinned.

"What delayed thee, Infadoo? My feet found the way from the heights a day since!"

"We knew! We knew! The _Isanusis_ of the King's Council saw thee; and I was sent hither with this troop of babes to ensure thy safe arrival, Mopo – GO!"

"No! Wait!" I cried as a youth bounded forward like a leash-slipped hound, "I would have thee bear a gift from Macumazahn to the King!"

Dragging back as if called to heel, Mopo took the long, palm-leaf bound bundle that I held out. As I handed it over, I devoutly prayed that Ignosi had retained his sardonic, double-cultured sense of humour.

The boy received it like a runner's baton; and shot off in leaps and bounds along the line of the Old Road.

"The kraal awaits thee hard by, as before, Macumazahn! Wilt thou honour us with thy presence?"

"Lead on, Macduff!" I muttered.

* * * *

Amply fed on roast mealie corn and ox-thigh, I lay under several karosses in the shadows outside my hut; and contemplated the Moon.

Before I dared to brave its silver light direct, I paused to recapitulate – body, soul and mind.

I was here! I had arrived! Small portions of torn-off soul which had - perhaps – been wandering Elsewhere in this vast Cosmos, scurried back to me like nesting mice.

The night sky mantled me in a vast contentment; and I wished (with sweet, bitter regret) that I could have shown it – just once – to My Boy.

The regret that this would never be, was tinged now with acceptance. After all, it was entirely possible that Harry was hovering in spirit between me and the Moon even now. And if – as I had come to believe – souls might inhabit many bodies on their Journey, then My Boy might yet be encountered – robed anew in fragile flesh – at any point on my Road.

The kaross was warm and soft as silk against my skin. The Moon shed its oblique benison not-yet-directly upon my head.

I sighed happily. I was Home.

* * * *  
"Well, Mr Quatermain! So I find you here like a savage, snoring in the face of the Moon! And what – may I ask – is the meaning of this rather blatant gift?"

"Hmmmm?"

I sighed myself blissfully awake into a shadow – Ignosi leaning over me and blotting out the light.

"I came back!" I announced stupidly.

"So I perceive! And sent me an impudent message accompanied by a gift of breathtaking intimacy, by the hand of an innocent child!"

"How did you get here so fast? Loo is two day's march away!"

"Hah, White Man, my far-seers knew of thy coming a month agone! And of thy loss! So first, Macumazahn, I honour the spirit of thine only son and share thy grief!"

"Thank you, Ignosi!"

"It lies heavy on thee still!" he observed dispassionately.

"Less so now that I am here."

I sat up, my upper torso emerging from the tangle of karosses like an elderly caricature of Venus from the foam.

Ignosi, however, appeared not to perceive the irony (or at least, not to mind it) as he hunkered down beside me against the hut to run a large thumb over my left breast.

"Thou wearest it still!" he observed.

I glanced to down to where the ebony ring lay on my chest, now practically inseparable from my flesh.

"It was a binding, as I recall. Thus, even when parted, we remain bound! Is it not so?"

"It is so. But I confess – after thy departure – I doubted the White Man would remember. Forgive me that I had such small trust in thine honour, my Macumazahn."

"We shared blood and seed, Ignosi. That makes us kin the world over, closer than skin or distance. Had I died over the water, still we would be bound!"

He sighed.

"Speak not of that! I would have known; and all the while unable to come to thee!"

The mellow voice was suddenly rough, and I eyed him in wonder.

"This thing means so much to thee? I had thought thou wouldst have many wives by now!"

"Oh, I do, Mr Quatermain, I do! You will recall that one of the Royal Titles is _Husband of a Thousand Wives_? But – " he reverted suddenly to his native tongue, "What has that to do with thou and I, my Macumazahn?"

So that was how it was to be! I suppressed with difficulty the viridian flames of jealousy that were eating my gut.

Perhaps he guessed, for he shifted from the hut-wall until he knelt before me and, reaching his right hand, delicately inserted the very tip of his little-finger into the ebony ring I wore. I could feel the pad of it, warm against my cold, hard nipple.

It came to me to do likewise with the ivory ring. With my hand splayed across his left breast, I slid my fingertip through the ivory like a hand into a hand, so that it rested lightly over the warm bud, beneath which his heart beat with increasing speed.

"Eish! A new and ever-renewing Circle!" he breathed.

My free hand moved behind his head and, gasping, I dragged him down into a clumsy, glorious kiss. There was nothing within me now except the moonlight and my overmastering desire.

Then my lover freed his lips and spoke.

"And what, Mr Quatermain, is the meaning of THIS?"

Whilst his right hand continued to caress me, his left rose, displaying my gift before my dazed eyes.

"Ah .. yes … well, I found it in Durban, and it seemed … appropriate! I have its dark twin in my travel-pack!" I babbled.

"Is it so?"

Like a shade, he was gone into the hut; and I swore beneath my breath as I rose reluctantly to my feet.

"That – " he said, reappearing with inopportune sharpness of hearing, "is not physically possible! However, THESE indeed have a use! Thy gift is acceptable to the Sire of Two Thousand Black Bull-Calves."

He now held in either hand two fly-whisks, fashioned from elephant-tails shrunk onto handles of ivory and ebony. These latter had been described to me by the dingy old Afrikaans dealer as _curiously-carved_.

"We shall surely find a home for these, my Macumazahn!" he declared in a low purr like a full-fed leopard, "How fortunate then, that I have brought – this!"

He whipped the covering from an earthenware jar, and I realised suddenly why my hazy memories of our last coupling were so bound up with the scent of honey.

He dipped, and then proffered the dripping ivory rod to me.

"This must find its true home!" he announced, turning to bend his regal back before me.

"I …..?"

"Oh come, Mr Quatermain! Must I do everything myself? Do not fear that you will harm me; and if thou dost – it is Fate!"

Thus adjured in English and Kukuana, I wasted no further time, but slid the ivory home with little resistance. Ignosi let out a long sigh, like an evening breeze amongst the silver-trees.

"Now me!" I said urgently.

He laughed softly.

"So impatient to impale thyself upon thy fate? Well – it was ever so with thee!"

I could not help noticing that, as he stalked stiff-legged towards me, his Erect Member jutted before him like a pennant at a ship's prow. He grappled me close with one arm and reached around me, so that I soon found myself in a similar condition.

Never have I felt so full, so _stretched_ or so _on-tiptoe_ (as it were). Teetering on the brink of almost-pain, almost-ecstasy, and total urgency, I hissed (in not very refined English) for him to get a move on!

"Manners, Mr Quatermain!"

"Manners be damned! I'm channelling my Inner Kukuana!"

"Indeed you are not! My people have a well-defined sense of time and season; and an innate sense of fitness, within the necessities imposed by their ritual cycle! You on the other hand are merely engaged in demanding instant gratification! Be thou patient now! The Moon and the Inkosazana shall dictate the steps of this our dance!"

The Moon smiled providentially from behind a tiny wisp of cloud at that moment. Ignosi, murmuring an incantation in Kukuana, wrapped his powerful forearms around my hips – incidentally trapping my arms at my sides; and with a mighty but effortless rippling of muscle, hoisted me skywards.

My impulse to kick out met only the curve of the hut behind me; and he easily controlled my frantic attempts to free my arms.

"_Sutjies, sutjies_, my Macumazahn! I might be saddened at thy lack of trust; but I recall that thou art a Hunter! Be assured that Prey thou art not! Merely a Man – flawed, arrogant (I forget not thy treatment when first we met in Durban!), and yet missed these past five years! My heart bounds like the Insephe at thy return, my beloved!"

"Thy agile tongue pricks me in altogether too many languages …. " I began.

But my brain, rational thought, and all language (English, Afrikaans or Kukuana) dribbled into incoherence as his mouth found and engulfed me, even as he held me high. My body, fast-anchored at my hips and balanced only because my feet had become entangled in the thatch of the hut, strained upwards from the waist to wards the revealing Moon. My cry – shrill and desperate as a hunting-jackal – lost itself in that endless firmament, its velvet-blue furred with raw diamonds.

His careful, rope-muscled, warrior's arms lowered me by degrees to _terra firma_. I sagged bonelessly against him as his arm – sustaining and seeking – snaked around me and gently removed … That!

My knees gave way, and I found myself crouched on a pile of karosses beneath the paleness of a waning Moon, my arms embracing his thighs. I craned forward to where he stood still proud in the dappled shadow. A splayed hand on my forehead thwarted my intent.

"_Sutjies_!" he murmured again.

I looked upwards along his dark length.

"I'm not sure" I objected in English, "that Afrikaans is the language of love, Ignosi!"

"If there be love, my Macumazahn, ANY language – or indeed, none at all – will suffice! I would breach and enter thee – my kingdom and my Dark Consort – in temporal power, in harmony with the Powers of Earth, and in human love, my Macumazahn!"

"If that be so – then do it, Ignosi!"

His hand on my neck impelled me down to the earth of the Kukuanes. He entered and pierced me; claiming me as he had done the land, with my help, five years ago.

Unbelievably I spilled a second time almost immediately. My head spun and it seemed to me that the land rose around me to make me its own.

And love would seal the bargain. I would nevermore stir from this place or from this man – its King with whom my soul was spilt.

* * * *

**Epilogue**

_Reuters Report 17.00 May 29 2001. Democratic Republic of Okavanga-Zambesi_

**The Real King Solomon's Mines?**

Reports of a major row arising from recent discoveries by a group of archaeologists and anthropologists working in Kukuana Territory have now been confirmed.

The main protagonists appear to be the leaders of the academic group (from the University of South Yorkshire), the Elders of the local tribes-people, and prospectors working for the Da Silvestre-Gemsbok International Mining Consortium.

Professor Harald-Henry Curtis, Head of Archaeo-Anthropological Studies at the University had this to say yesterday –

"We believe that we have stumbled across evidence that proves the truth of the Legend of King Solomon's Mines! Every day brings new and exciting artefacts to light. Yesterday some of our team ventured into the inner cave of the complex under Suliman's Berg; and have uncovered a unique burial chamber holding – we believe – the preserved cadavers of the Kings of the Kukuanes dating back to at least the sixteenth century!"

However, Kukuana Tribal Elders are furious at what they see as a sacrilegious intrusion into their primary sacred place; and have threatened reprisals if anyone disturbs or removes anything from the inner cavern.

In the meantime, Da-Silvestre-Gemsbok alleges that the whole of Suliman's Berg was ceded to its subsidiary, Bougwan Enterprises, during the unsettled period that followed Independence in the late 1960s; and is prepared to go to court to substantiate its claim……..

* * * *

_Reuters Report 10.00 June 15 2001. Democratic Republic of Okavanga-Zambesi_

**Astounding Revelation! More on the 'King Solomon's Mines' Controversy**:

Professor Harald-Henry Curtis, Head of Archaeo-Anthropological Studies from the University of South Yorkshire, has claimed that one of the preserved bodies recently discovered beneath Suliman's Berg, Kukuana-Territory here in Okavanga-Zambesi, is that of the legendary hunter and writer Alan Quatermain.

Here is an extended excerpt from his report …..

_" …..a natural cave of cathedral-like dimensions, pillared by huge stalactites from which a short passageway led into a dark chamber which had clearly been hand-hewn by humans at some distant time._

_"This chamber was set like a conference room, with a massive stone table. At its head, and seemingly presiding, was an artefact the like of which I have never seen before; taking, as it did, the form of a huge human skeleton, at least twice life-size. It had been carved in the act of rising from its place, a spear clutched in one bony hand. The effect was stunning and – I have to admit – a little unnerving even to those members of my team who are accustomed to working with preserved human remains._

_"Seated around the table are the mortal remains of thirty humans – kings of the Kukuanes; each preserved by being placed beneath a mineral-imbued water-drip, and slowly petrified!_

_"Those members of the Kukuana people who had reluctantly consented to guide us hither (the descendants, we were told, of those who traditionally prepared each corpse for its unique preservation), were able to identify some of the bodies; using honorific titles, since it is believed to be death to pronounce the true name of a deceased king._

_"It was when they reached the final two figures, those sitting to the left of the colossal skeletal figure that the revelation came. The first one, our guides identified as "He Who Returned From The Stars"; and the second simply as 'The Watcher-By-Night' (Macumazana)._

_"Our team archivist, recognising the name as a variant of Quatermain's Zulu title, could hardly contain her excitement, and insisted that we take a closer look._

_"Because of the advanced state of petrification, it proved impossible to distinguish specific racial characteristics in any of the corpses. Indeed, their facial features were hardly recognisable as such. However, beneath the stone seat of this final corpse was discovered the remains of a leather case, bound securely in dried leaf and wrapped in animal pelt; containing what appears to be a document of some kind. This has been removed from the chamber – against the vigorously-expressed wishes of the Kukuana – for further study._

_"There was one singular piece of decoration upon the corpse that was still recognisable. Perhaps because of its composition, this piece had resisted the encroachment of the mineral-bearing water over the years._

_"At the point on the body that approximated to the left breast, a small ring of ebony could quite clearly be made out. A close inspection of all the other mummies (if I may so style them) revealed that only the companion-figure – 'He Who Returned From The Stars' – sported a similar body ornament, in tarnished elephant ivory."_


End file.
